And the Stockings Were Hung by Garters with Care
by Aquarius-1977
Summary: Diplomacy and holiday festivities interfere with Trip and T'Pol's alone-time.


A/N: This is my response for the Holiday Fic Exchange. My giftee is **Kotik**, and these were the requested requirements:

_3 things I want in my story._

_A cute Vulcan (T'Pol) and her mate (no points for guessing, who) in a romantic or smutty situation (depending on your preference)_

_Another cute Vulcan (T'Pau - I'm shallow, sue me) in a funny or downright hillarious scene_

_General respect for all characters (no bashing anyone)_

_  
3 things that I DON'T want._

_Angst_

_Violence (neither physical or mental)_

_Romulans_

_  
PROMPT: Reindeer (It's christmas alright _ _ )_

Merry Christmas, **Kotik! **I hope this works.

* * *

Trip really hated this diplomatic shit, especially when it interfered with the goings-on in his Engine Room.

"Welcome aboard _Enterprise_, Minister T'Pau," Captain Jonathan Archer greeted with warm formality. "This is Commander Charles Tucker, my Chief Engineer, and you already know Commander T'Pol."

Vulcan's newest and youngest political leader exchanged her people's traditional greeting with the _Enterprise_ crew members as she stepped off the transporter dais. Pausing in front of Trip, she said, "Vulcan owes you a debt of gratitude, Commander, as do I. Your role in averting a war and exposing corruption at the highest levels of our government has undoubtedly saved millions of lives."

Trip's annoyance at not being at his post to continuously supervise the engine upgrades T'Pau's government had recently rewarded them with was temporarily forgotten—not due to the unexpected praise from a high-ranking Vulcan official, but rather he'd caught himself wondering if all Vulcan women had full, pouty lips like T'Pol and T'Pau. Hell, even T'Pol's mom had been kind of hot, in a cougarish if-Mrs. Robinson-had-been-a-Vulcan kind of way. He covered his blush by simply saying, "It's just all in a day's work, ma'am."

Archer beamed proudly at Trip's apparent display of modesty. Turning his attention to T'Pau, he said, "I'll have a crewman take your things to your quarters. In the meantime, I'd like to give you the fifty-cent tour."

Briefly pausing at the idiom, T'Pau said solemnly, "Captain, it is urgent we get under way to meet Ambassador Soval at the summit on Andoria. We are on the verge of cementing a lasting peace between our governments, and it seems we still have much to atone for on behalf of our people."

"And we will, Minister," Archer assured her, "but you have to admit you did kind of spring this early departure on us last-minute. We're still finishing the engine upgrades you gave us, and--"

"I was assured your ship would be ready. Perhaps we should all get out and push?"

Trip's jaw froze in mid-retort as he decided whether T'Pau's remark was an insult...or an attempt at a joke.

Archer interceded before Trip could speak. "With all due respect, Minister, Commander Tucker's crews are working around the clock to get these upgrades finished early, and he'll have us on our way as soon as possible. Isn't that right, Commander?"

"Even if I have to sleigh-jack a fat guy in a red suit and harness his eight tiny reindeer to the hull, Cap'n," Trip answered dryly.

"Reindeer?" T'Pau asked.

T'Pol clarified for her benefit. "On the Terran calendar, many of their cultures' holidays occur during the month of December. Today is the eve of one such holiday celebrated by most denominations of one of their major religions. The reindeer represent a secular aspect this holiday has taken on."

"Yes," added Archer, "so things are going to look a little interesting as we tour the decks with crew quarters."

Again, T'Pau looked to T'Pol for clarification.

"The Captain has allowed the crew to decorate outside their quarters as well as inside," T'Pol explained, barely concealing her distaste, "with lights...and garland."

Archer gestured toward the door. "After you, Minister."

The captain and T'Pau were barely out of the room before Trip spoke into T'Pol's ear. "Scrooge."

"Such decorations in the corridors are hazardous," T'Pol said as she moved to leave,"not to mention aesthetically disharmonious."

Trip stopped her with a mischievous grin. "Hey, I'm a little busy right now, so why don't you stop by my quarters tonight after the Christmas party? Santa Trip's got somethin' in his goody bag for you, dependin' on whether you've been naughty or nice." Their plans for an intimate Christmas dinner for two had been quashed by the need to speed up the engine upgrades, but Trip fully intended to make it up to her later on. Precious time alone together had been in such short supply lately.

T'Pol's head tilted slightly, as it always did whenever she was calculating possibilities and probabilities. She straightened, eyes widening slightly as both brows shot up. Trip knew she'd reached the right conclusion as she wordlessly exited, with the barest hint of a nod.

* * *

The party was working up to full swing as Trip looked around the mess hall. Flashing lights reflected off tinsel and garland as jazzy arrangements of Christmas songs played over speakers. Trip was feeling pretty proud of himself as he looked around, having reworked the Engineering schedule in a manner that allowed every member of his crew to attend the party, even if only for a couple of hours. Everyone was eating, drinking, or dancing, though there was a slightly reserved vibe to the air, as though all were keeping themselves reigned in should their VIP passenger drop in.

Trip scanned the room. T'Pol wasn't hard to find. He'd expected to find her standing against a wall in formal Vulcan robes; instead she was in a silky black dress that was modest but stunning nonetheless.

"I see you discovered Bloomingdale's on our last trip to Earth," he observed as he worked his way to her side.

"Indeed," she answered crisply, saying nothing about Trip's attire, but clearly giving his bright Hawaiian print shirt what he'd come to call "the Vulcan stink-eye." "Though it was not nearly as enlightening as Victoria's Secret."

Trip's heart leaped into his throat at that little revelation. He began to imagine what sorts of decidedly _un_-modest garments could possibly be concealed under that dress. He supposed a sexy elf costume complete with garters would be too much to ask, but sometimes T'Pol had a way of surprising him.

"I researched Mrs. Robinson in the database," T'Pol remarked matter-of-factly.

_Fantasy derailed_.

Stunned, Trip's mouth worked silently for a moment before he found his voice. "'Scuse me?"

"And I am wondering why you would compare my mother to a predatory jungle felinoid."

Damn, he hated it when she did that! Sometimes their telepathic bond seemed so unfairly one-sided. "Look, it wasn't meant to be disrespectful. In fact, it's kind of a compliment."

T'Pol countered with a dubious eyebrow.

"Really," Trip said in the most convincing voice he could muster. "Look, all I meant was, your mother was beautiful, so when I met her...it was obvious why _you're_ so beautiful."

T'Pol considered for a moment. "Your execution of diplomacy leaves something to be desired," she said coolly, "but your attempt is duly noted."

"Ho, ho, ho!"

Their exchange was interrupted by a red-suited Phlox, complete with white beard.

"Commanders!" Phlox greeted brightly, handing them each something from the bag he was carrying. "Some stuffers for your stockings." Before they could say anything he was off, presumably to spread more holiday cheer.

T'Pol looked quizzically into her hand. "Dental floss?"

Trip's tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek. "He gave me a condom." Resisting the urge to laugh, he said, "Somebody's gotta keep him away from the egg-nog." He tossed the items onto a tray of empty glasses and dirty plates as a server passed by. "So what do you say we get out of here so I can tell you what I really want for Christmas?"

T'Pol's large eyes shimmered with desire, though the rest of her face remained impassive. "It is an attractive proposition, however, I believe it would be bad form to leave before the Captain and Minister T'Pau arrive."

His disappointment wasn't entirely feigned. "Suit yourself." He'd stay because it was the right thing to do, but all day _everything_ just seemed like one more obstacle keeping him from T'Pol. She hadn't even been able to find the time to come to Engineering to help him out.

He tried to distract himself by people-watching. Spotting a couple of familiar faces in the crowd, he grinned. "Looks like Hoshi's on a mission tonight."

T'Pol followed Trip's gaze. Hoshi Sato was wearing a short, red sequined cocktail dress with matching heels. She had the attention of many men in the room, though there appeared to be only one man in particular worthy of hers: Malcolm Reed. As she and Malcolm talked, Hoshi leaned in, periodically flipping her long, luxurious dark hair behind her, drawing attention to her cleavage and bare shoulders.

T'Pol's brow shot up. "It is surprising that Ensign Sato and Lieutenant Reed have not yet mated. Perhaps they require a tutorial?"

Trip let out a burst of laughter after the briefest pause. T'Pol often denied having a sense of humor—and for years he'd actually agreed with her on that point—but the longer he knew her, the more evidence he saw to the contrary.

"Looks like we missed a pretty good joke, Minister."

Trip turned to see Archer and T'Pau stepping up. "I'd re-tell it, Cap'n," Trip responded good-naturedly, "but you had to be there. I hope you're enjoying the party, Minister."

T'Pau looked around curiously. "It is...interesting. I was also able to observe the Hanukkah ritual beforehand."

"Too bad you weren't here yesterday," Trip remarked. "You would've loved Festivus."

Phlox picked that moment to reappear. "Ho, ho, ho!" His eyes were on T'Pau as he reached into his bag.

Trip hurriedly grabbed Phlox's arm and pulled him away, fearing what else was in that bag and hoping to prevent an intergalactic incident. "'Scuse us for just a moment, folks." Turning to Phlox he said, "Hey Doc, I need your help. I get this awful pain when I do this..." Trip shrugged his shoulder and crooked his neck at an unnatural angle.

Before they were completely out of earshot, Phlox could be heard answering, "Then it's my experienced medical opinion that you shouldn't _do_ that, Mr. Tucker..."

"Who was that?" T'Pau asked.

"Santa Claus," T'Pol answered, somewhat wearily.

T'Pau continued to stare after Trip and Phlox. "This is the religious figure for whom this holiday is celebrated?"

Never being one to discuss heavy religious matters, Archer said simply, "It depends on who you ask." He changed the subject with a smile. "Maybe we should get something to eat and mingle. Care to join us, Commander?"

T'Pol spared a brief but longing glance in Trip's direction. What she really wanted was to be on the other side of the room with him.

What she _really _wanted was to be alone with him in some dark corner somewhere, behind closed doors, coming undone under his smoldering gaze.

"Of course, Captain," she answered instead.

It was going to be a _long_ party.

* * *

Trip decided it would be mostly harmless if he convinced Phlox to sit down for some festive pictures. Trip gave his camera to Travis, who was a closeted shutter bug, and various female crew members took advantage of the opportunity to sit on "Santa's" lap for a photo while they told him what they wanted for Christmas.

T'Pol was still stuck playing diplomat with Archer and T'Pau. Every so often, as Trip moved about the room, he would feel a warm caress in the back of his mind. When he turned his head, he'd catch T'Pol looking his way. Trip saw this as a definite advantage to their bond, as it had become T'Pol's way of letting him know she was thinking of him.

He smiled to himself. Even if circumstances forced them apart, they would always be together. Neither Christmas party nor diplomatic mission from hell could ever take that away.

At some point, he found himself sitting with members of his Engineering crew for a couple of hours, sharing stories of family holiday traditions over beers. The table erupted in laughter as Anna Hess relayed a possibly exaggerated tale of a particularly embarrassing debacle involving a turkey and her future mother-in-law. Out of the corner of his eye, Trip caught a glimpse of the captain and T'Pol, without T'Pau. Excusing himself from the table, he headed across the room, hopeful it was time to make his move.

"Having a good time, Trip?" Archer asked as he approached.

"Yeah, great, thanks," Trip answered, the rush of anticipation thinly disguised as enthusiasm. "Where's Minister T'Pau?"

"She decided to turn in early," Archer replied. "We were just about to get some egg-nog. Care to join us?"

Trip exchanged the briefest of glances with T'Pol and caught her almost imperceptible nod. "Sounds great, Cap'n, but I think it's time to put Santa Phlox to bed. He looks like he's had enough for one Christmas."

"Probably a good idea," Archer agreed. "See you in the morning for breakfast?"

"Probably not, Cap'n," Trip answered, unable to keep from catching T'Pol's eye again. "I think I'm gonna sleep in a little, then get straight to work in the Engine Room."

"I understand," Archer said good -naturedly. "See you tomorrow."

"I, too, am fatigued," T'Pol declared with the subtlety of a stun grenade. "Good night, Captain...Commander."

With that, the clandestine lovers scattered, leaving a suspicious but amused captain in their wake.

* * *

Trip had somehow ended up wearing Phlox's Santa hat in the process of walking the doctor to his quarters. Who knew Denobulans got drunk off of eggs? No wonder the doctor had such a fondness for egg drop soup!

He'd barely had a chance to brush his teeth before T'Pol entered his quarters unannounced; they'd long ago dispensed with door chimes, favoring speed and stealth over pleasantries in order to keep their affair as quiet as possible. The door had no sooner closed behind her before their mouths came crashing together.

"I thought we'd never get out of there!" Trip said after they broke for air.

"I, too, was beginning to doubt a rendezvous would be possible," T'Pol agreed, already working at the buttons of Trip's shirt, smoothing her hands over his well-defined chest muscles as she pushed the garment away from him.

Playfully dropping the Santa hat onto her head, Trip backed up to sit on the bed, motioning for her to come closer. "C'mon, let's see what you've got for me. Have you been naughty...or nice?"

T'Pol's dress quickly became a dark pool around her ankles as she shrugged out of it, revealing a black corset with red bows, garters connecting to her stockings, and the tiniest red and black panties he'd ever seen. She gazed at him almost bashfully as she awaited his approval. Topped with the Santa hat, she was easily sexier than anything he could imagine.

"Definitely naughty." Awestruck, he pulled her in, bringing them both down onto the bed. "I love it."

"Merry Christmas, _Ashayam," _T'Pol murmured. "Now stop talking."

_Oh, yeah_, Trip mused, running his fingers along one of the garters. _Best. Christmas. Ever!_

End


End file.
